


What Friends Do

by HixyStix



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mission Fic, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Season/Series 04, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29913555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HixyStix/pseuds/HixyStix
Summary: When a mission inevitably goes awry, Zeb and Kallus find themselves stuck overnight in a very familiar situation: in a cave, fighting off creatures that want to eat them.Fighting for his life?  Zeb can handle that.  Dealing with all these pesky feelings for Kallus?  That's not so simple.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 17
Kudos: 66





	What Friends Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fox (Foxen)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxen/gifts).



> Thanks, as always, to sempaiko and nefariosity for support, encouragement, and beta help!
> 
> This fills the "Caught Sleeping" square on my 2021 KZ Bingo Card.

No mission ever went smoothly, Zeb knew, but it’d be nice if it happened once. Just once, that’s all he wanted.

Today was not his day, however. He looked at their coordinates for the seventeenth time.

“We’re _in_ the right spot,” Kallus snapped.

Zeb looked at his mission partner with some annoyance. They’d landed in the Cilpar jungle ten hours ago, expecting to meet an Imperial defector, code named Aurora, who had good information on the sector’s Moff. They hadn’t been met by the nearby Imperial garrison, so they hadn’t been sold out, but Aurora hadn’t showed either.

To Zeb, that said either Aurora got caught – or killed – or they were in the wrong spot. If Aurora had gotten caught, they’d have probably been tortured into giving up their Rebel contacts, so Zeb kept thinking the mistake was on their end.

“It’s getting dark,” Kallus said, looking up through the hole the _Phantom_ had punched in the jungle canopy when they landed.

 _No shavit_. “Thought you weren’t afraid of the dark,” Zeb quipped, trying to lighten his own mood.

Kallus gave him a tired look. “You remember our briefing. There are nocturnal predators here that can take down both human and lasat.”

“So we stay in the _Phantom_ ,” Zeb suggested. “Or we leave now.”

Above them, a TIE flew over the jungle, its ion engines screaming loud enough to hurt Zeb’s ears. He ducked instinctively, even though the fighter was nowhere near low enough to see them, much less buzz their location.

“Okay, so we don’t leave,” Zeb amended. “What do we do now?”

Kallus pointed off to the east. “We go to the mountains. There are supposed to be caves there. We can shelter overnight.”

“And a cave’ll be easier to defend than the _Phantom_ ,” Zeb said, catching on. 

“Exactly.”

“Well, let’s pack up and go,” Zeb said, tossing Kallus a rucksack. Together, they loaded it up with rations, water packs, and the _Phantom II_ ’s rudimentary first aid kit. Zeb grabbed the transponder, just in case.

Kallus led the way through the jungle as the sun slowly set. Under the massive trees, dark fell quickly, meaning Zeb had to reach out more than once to stop Kallus from tripping.

The more Zeb had to grab Kallus by the arms – once by the waist – the more he thought their mission had been a bad idea. Not because they were rescuing a defector. Not because they had to find a cave to spend the night in. Zeb could do all that.

It was being so close to Kallus.

It’d only been a couple of months since Atollon and Kallus had been in overdrive, working as hard as he could to prove his usefulness and, Zeb thought, his worth to the Rebellion. It was stupid, in Zeb’s opinion, but Kallus wasn’t listening to his opinion.

That frustrated Zeb more than it should have. Now that he was a full-fledged Rebel, Zeb tried to be friendly with Kallus, and while Kallus was receptive some days, others it was like talking to a duracrete wall.

Zeb tried to tell himself he shouldn’t care if Kallus listened to him or not, except on missions, but…

Well, he _did_ care. And there was a whole minefield of emotions behind that care, so Zeb just shoved it down and tried not to look too hard at why he so desperately wanted to be friends with Kallus. With an ex-ISB agent. With a man who’d participated, willingly or not, in the attack on Lasan.

Zeb usually managed to avoid thinking about those topics. There, in the Cilpar jungle, he also resolutely sidestepped thinking about why he got a slight thrill every time he reached out and touched Kallus, keeping him from falling.

No, those things were too much to contemplate when they had a mission to focus on.

They reached the edge of the forest, rocky mountain ridges rising sharply in front of them.

“Let’s walk the edge until we find a cave,” Zeb suggested. “If there are as many caves as you said, we should find one soon.”

Kallus stopped where he was, pulling out his datapad. “Let me mark where we turned north,” he said.

Zeb held back an eyeroll. “We’ve got a connection directly to the _Phantom_. We can just follow that in the morning.”

“I’m simply being thorough,” Kallus argued defensively.

Zeb sighed and took the lead, walking just inside the tree line so that no surveillance flights would see them. Behind him, Kallus kept tripping over exposed roots and vines, slowing them down.

Stopping, Zeb held out his hand.

“What’s that for?” Kallus asked.

“I’m offerin’ to help you navigate without fallin’.” Zeb pushed his hand a little closer to Kallus.

Tentatively, Kallus placed his hand in Zeb’s.

Zeb had remembered what that small human hand felt like in his, back on Bahryn when Kallus saved him from the beasts there, but the memory had nothing on actually holding Kallus’s hand again. Fingerless gloves, this time, with rough fingers rubbing against his fur, a warm palm dwarfed by his own, five fingers that just might slot together with four…

Together, they made their way through the jungle, Zeb carefully examining the rocky mountain face in the fading light.

“There,” he said, pointing up with his free hand. “About two meters up. D’you see it?”

“I do,” Kallus said. He dropped Zeb’s hand and approached the rocky mountainside. “Help me up.”

Zeb did as requested, boosting Kallus’s foot with his hands until the human could crawl easily into the cave. Using claws, Zeb followed him.

The cave was dark enough even Zeb couldn’t see, so he dug in the rucksack for a glowrod. The glowrod wasn’t very bright, illuminating only a meter or so, but it was better than nothing. Zeb led the way into the cave, hunched over and trying not to hit his head on the low ceiling.

A low growling deep in the cave made his fur stand on end. Zeb’s arm shot out, stopping Kallus. “We should get out of here,” he whispered.

It was too late, though. At the edge of the light, four eyes glowed.

“Karabast,” Zeb said. “Run, Kal!” He dropped the glowrod and tried to pull his bo-rifle, but the cave was too small. 

A blur of yellowish brown fur leapt through the air at him, teeth sinking into the arm holding the glowrod and claws tearing through his chest armor and into his stomach.

Somewhere among the pain screaming through his body, he felt Kallus pull the bo-rifle from his back. _Kark him, I told him to **run**_.

Zeb wrestled with the beast, trying to keep it from reaching Kallus, but the animal was strong. It was obviously the nocturnal predator they’d been warned about.

“Down!” said Kallus firmly.

Zeb ducked, moments before Kallus fired the bo-rifle, the explosive noise ringing in Zeb’s ears as it echoed through the stone hollows. The beast roared in pain, retreating back into the cave.

Kallus, hunched over as well, pushed past Zeb, snatching the glowrod from the ground, and pushed forward. 

Clutching at the bite on his arm, Zeb followed the circle of light, wincing as the blasts of the bo-rifle echoed through the cave. Strangled roars cut off when Kallus fired, two solid thuds as large animal bodies hit the cave floor.

The circle of light in front of Kallus moved around the cave, the man making an obvious sweep for more of the feline creatures. After a brief inspection, Kallus came back to Zeb.

“Karabast,” Kallus said, kneeling in front of Zeb. “Can you walk? How much blood are you losing?”

Zeb laughed once and regretted it, the motion stretching the gashes on his chest. “I’m hurtin’,” he admitted, “but I can move.”

“Good. We should get out of the cave mouth in case that TIE comes close.”

“You sure we should stay in the cave now?” Zeb asked. “What if more come back?”

“We’ll deal with them,” Kallus said, expression dark. “But right now, if that TIE does a sweep for lifeforms, this cave will read two, just like it would with just the ronks.”

“Ronks?” Zeb frowned.

Kallus took the rucksack, carefully lifting it around Zeb’s injuries. “The animals. Didn’t you pay attention to the briefing?”

“Not that part, apparently,” Zeb muttered.

Kallus huffed, blowing some hair from his face. “Well, they’re called ronks, they’re attracted to light, and the males are safe to eat.”

Zeb gave the bodies a wary glance as he moved deeper into the cave. “Think I’ll stick with the ration bars.”

A small smile crossed Kallus’s face. “I don’t particularly care to go back out and gather firewood, so I think we’re in agreement on food.” He pointed to a spot by a hourglass-shaped pillar. “Sit there.”

Zeb sat carefully, trying not to use his injured arm. “If the females aren’t safe to eat, I guess I better hope it was a male that bit me.”

Kallus set the glowrod down close enough to illuminate both himself and Zeb. “That doesn’t follow.”

“Sure it does,” Zeb said. “Doesn’t it? If it’s not safe to eat, it’s not safe to be bitten by.”

“Zeb,” Kallus said, giving him a look. “ _Poisonous_ and _venomous_ are two different things. Ronks aren’t venomous.”

“They might be,” Zeb grumbled. “You’re not from here. You just know what Intelligence told you.”

Kallus looked like he might say something, but he held his tongue. Zeb watched him dig through the rucksack for the medkit. “Here,” he said, pulling out the kit. “There’s bacta in here. I just hope it’ll be enough.”

“There’s some painkillers in there too, right?” Zeb asked hopefully.

“Ought to be,” Kallus said. He opened the kit and pulled out five packets of bacta, then looked over at Zeb. “You’ll need to take your clothes and armor off.”

“Not all the way?” Zeb asked, worried. It wasn’t so much modesty – unlike humans, everything of his was hidden away behind a slit – as it was the possibility of being touched by Kallus.

No, not being touched by Kallus. Why had he thought that? It was anyone touching him in places usually covered by his suit and armor. He was jumpy when it came to _anyone_ touching him somewhere other than his arms.

Kallus wasn’t special in that regard. Couldn’t be. They were allies now, sure, even getting to be friends, maybe, but anything more?

Zeb couldn’t bring himself to consider it. It wasn’t right. He was a former Imperial; he’d never be interested in a nonhuman.

“No,” Kallus said, oblivious to Zeb’s inappropriate thoughts. “Just enough to let me bandage you properly.”

Fur ruffling, Zeb complied, rolling his bodysuit down to his waist and trying not to notice the way Kallus was watching him. The human just wanted to be sure Zeb didn’t exacerbate anything. Couldn’t be anything more than that.

Kallus knelt by Zeb and took his arm, examining his wounds more closely. “This bite doesn’t look good,” he said, brushing the fur away from the ragged puncture wounds.

“I’ve had worse,” Zeb supplied.

“You probably also had a medcenter to take care of you,” Kallus countered. “Now all you’ve got is me.”

Zeb looked away quickly. “You survived my first aid. I bet I can survive yours.”

Kallus laughed shortly. “Your interpretation of ‘first aid’ is pretty loose. I’m not sure tossing me around by my injured leg counts.”

The laugh made Zeb feel more confident. Kallus was treating him like a friend. Well, as much of a friend as the former Imperial was able to. Wasn’t like the Empire encouraged friendships, from what Zeb could tell.

Zeb watched Kallus work, the bacta gel cool and sticky in all his wounds and surrounding fur. With a look of disgust, Kallus picked up the roll of medical wrap included in their first aid kit. “There’s not enough here,” he said. “There’s enough if you were a Jawa, maybe, but not for a lasat.”

“That’s fine,” Zeb said. “Just put the bacta on. I don’t need bandages.”

“Yes, you do,” said Kallus firmly. He bound Zeb’s arm tightly, using all of the provided wrap. Leaning back, he took off his mossy green shirt, exposing a large bare chest covered in thick blond fur– no, humans would call that hair, too, right? He handed Zeb the shirt. “Tear that into strips. I’ll boil them and use them to wrap your chest.”

“Boil them? Thought we weren’t going to have a fire,” Zeb said.

“Plan’s changed,” Kallus said simply. “I’ll go out and get wood.”

Zeb wanted to argue, but Kallus was more than capable of making his own decisions. Setting down the shirt, Zeb picked up his bo-rifle. “If you’re sure, take this. There might be more of those things.”

“Ronks.”

“Yeah, them.” Zeb leaned back against the cool rock of the cave wall, watching Kallus. In the weak light of the glowrod, he appeared almost washed out, paler than normal. Zeb couldn’t even see his spots.

Not that Zeb _cared_ about such things. He simply noticed them the way he’d notice a new paint job on Sabine’s armor. Really.

Kallus gave Zeb one last look and headed back through to darkness to the cave entrance, moving slowly, one hand on the wall to guide him.

Zeb almost called after him, told him to get his dumb ass back there and take the glowrod before he hurt himself, too, but Kallus was gone, sliding down the short distance from the cave opening to the ground.

And just like that, Zeb was alone. He experimented with turning the glowrod off to preserve its power pack, but the cave was darker than anywhere else he’d ever been and he kept hearing things further in the tunnels. Or he _thought_ he heard them.

Better to keep the glowrod on.

* * *

“Zeb,” hissed a familiar voice. “Zeb, wake up!”

Eyelids heavy, Zeb blinked and realized that while he’d fallen asleep, Kallus had gathered wood, returned, and lit a fire. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled. Instinctively, he reached for his bo-rifle, finding it set back across his lap.

The firelight flickered golden in Kallus’s eyes as he set a can – something from the _Phantom_ , maybe? – in the fire. “Don’t be sorry,” he said matter-of-factly. “If you can start shredding that shirt into strips, I can finish it.”

Zeb picked Kallus’s shirt out of his lap, groaning involuntarily as the movement tugged at his wounds. Bacta gel or not, they _hurt_. Still, he used his claws to rip the fabric, going ahead and tearing it into strips himself.

Kallus took the newly-made bandages and boiled them for a couple of minutes before pulling them out. He let them cool a bit and then wrung as much water as he could from them before tying them end-to-end. He approached Zeb with a handful of the damp strips. “I need you to lean forward,” he said. “So I can wrap this around you.”

Biting his lip to keep from making noise, Zeb did as he was instructed. Moments later, Kallus’s arms were around his torso, reaching to wrap the connected straps a few times around Zeb.

Kallus was close, very close. His cheek hovered just close enough to Zeb’s that he disturbed the fur, breath hot at the base of Zeb’s ear. Kallus kept holding his breath, letting it out in irregular spurts that tickled more than just Zeb’s ear.

Zeb turned his head slightly, then stopped himself. Kallus froze as well. The air in the cave grew hot and heavy.

Somehow, Zeb knew that if he looked at Kallus, they’d kiss; a visceral knowledge, not simply a daydream.

If they kissed, they might not stop. Wouldn’t _want_ to stop. And as much as Zeb wanted that, he knew that a cave on an Imperial-controlled planet with large predators was _not_ the place for the two of them to work out just what kind of friendship – or more – that they wanted to have.

Zeb knew he had to break the moment. “Did I ever tell you about what Ezra did after the first time you and I fought?”

Kallus leaned back, just a bit, and tied off the bandage strips. “No. What did Bridger do?”

“ _Ezra_ ,” Zeb corrected. “You’re on our side now, so he’s Ezra.”

Huffing, Kallus amended his question. “What did Ezra do?”

“Teased me relentlessly about being my savior. Kept reminding me he saved my life.” Zeb grinned. “Up until I stole that TIE and saved _him_.”

“Ah, yes. Rudor was most affronted that you stole his fighter. He sulked for a week,” Kallus said, a slight smile on his face. “But why bring that up?”

Zeb thought quickly. “I guess I’m gonna owe you one after this. You’re not gonna lord it over me like Ezra, are you?”

Kallus blinked. “You hardly ‘owe me one,’ Zeb. I’m not keeping score, but you saved my life on Bahryn and at Atollon both. We’re mission partners and I presume you’d do the same for me if I’d been the one hurt.”

“I owe you for saving Sabine and Ezra and Kanan and, well, I guess even Chopper. Plus you sent lots of info that saved my ass, like the stuff about those infiltrator droids.” Zeb leaned his head back against the rock wall. “I’d say I owe you more.”

Kallus retreated back to the well-lit area around the fire, dissipating the last of the tension that hung in the air. “Do you Spectres _always_ keep track of who owes who?”

“Nah,” Zeb said. “We don’t do that. Ezra did at first – kid had trouble trusting us – but he’s better now.”

“I recall he didn’t think you’d come back for him when I caught him that first time,” Kallus said.

“Yeah.” Zeb scratched the back of his neck. “S’pose that was my fault. We’d just met him that day and I prob’ly coulda fought you for him, but I didn’t. He wasn’t family yet.”

Kallus picked at his fingernails, the firelight dancing in his hair. “I suppose both Bri– Ezra and I should be grateful you didn’t fight that day. Without my bo-rifle, you might have won.”

“Maybe,” Zeb allowed. “You were pretty set and determined to kill us back then; you mighta figured something out.”

Grimacing, Kallus looked back up at Zeb. “Can we not reminisce about those years?”

“Sorry.” Zeb mentally kicked himself. Of _course_ Kallus would be touchy about that; the man had only changed allegiances a little more than a year earlier. He was still finding his footing in the Rebellion, so reminders of his past would only hinder him. “Meant it as a compliment, y’know? You’re a bastard of an opponent. Stormtroopers, I can throw around like they’re nothin’, but you always fought back. And I guess I’m glad you’re our bastard now.

Kallus gave what looked to be a forced smile. “Thank you, I suppose.”

An awkward silence fell, the only sound the crackling of the fire.

No, not the _only_ sound. Zeb’s ears perked up, listening intently. “Kal–“ he hissed, readying his bo-rifle.

His warning was unnecessary. Kallus was watching the entrance to the cave, blaster pulled.

A low growl sounded.

Another ronk had found them.

Zeb waited until he could see its eyes reflecting the firelight. The feline predator stalked toward Kallus by the fireplace. Kallus obviously couldn’t see it yet, human eyes not adapted for the dark like lasat.

Well, kriff _that_. Zeb braced himself for the noise and fired. He missed, but only barely.

The ronk yelped and skittered back – sideways, not back toward the cave entrance. Zeb fired again and this time the shot hit the ronk in the chest, bringing it down just inside the circle of firelight.

Kallus stood and walked over to the wounded ronk. He fired two quick shots into its head, killing it.

“D’you need help dragging it up to the others?” Zeb asked. “Or do you think that’s what attracted it in the first place?”

“It’s a possibility,” Kallus said, frowning. As he walked up to where the other ronks were, he muttered something Zeb didn’t catch.

Aware Kallus might not want to answer, Zeb called, “What was that?” 

Kallus stooped, grabbed one of the beast’s paws, and started dragging it out of the cave. “I said I should have thought of that,” he said bitterly.

“I didn’t think of it, either,” Zeb pointed out.

Shaking his head, Kallus dumped the ronk out of the mouth of the cave. He repeated the process with the second ronk and came back for the third. “It’s my job to think of these things,” Kallus said once he finally sat down again. “To anticipate any dangers and prevent them. I was so intent on getting you bandaged up that I didn’t think through our situation.”

“We’re both still alive,” Zeb said. “I think we’re doin’ okay.”

“We haven’t achieved the mission objective,” Kallus said. “If our defector doesn’t show in the morning, we’ll have to declare it a failure.”

It was Zeb’s turn to frown. “Any mission we all come back from is a success,” he stated. “Defector or no.”

A stricken look crossed Kallus’s face and Zeb got the distinct impression that he was taking this mission personally. That extracting a fellow defector meant something more to him than it did to Zeb.

Zeb sighed. “You better get some sleep.”

“I can take first watch,” Kallus offered.

“Nah.” Zeb indicated his wounds. “These still sting enough I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Makes sense for you to go first.”

Kallus didn’t put up any argument. He zipped his jacket up over his bare chest and settled in, propped up against another pillar. Within minutes, he appeared to be asleep.

A pang of jealousy shot through Zeb. He’d learned already that Kallus could fall asleep anywhere, in any position and it was a trick Zeb wished he was capable of. Of course, Kallus probably learned that skill because of how much the Empire demanded of its agents – and how much he demanded of himself.

Perhaps Zeb wasn’t so jealous, after all.

In sleep, Kallus actually looked relaxed, a side no one, Zeb included, really ever saw. He’d spent his short time with the Rebellion working long hours and trying to keep his head down; too many people there had had run-ins with Agent Kallus. Zeb suspected he hoped that if he managed some great Intelligence feat, people would accept him.

It was futile. Kallus probably knew that. Some people would never forgive him. 

Zeb sometimes thought he ought to be in that group. After all, Kallus had been on Lasan. He’d chased and tried to capture or kill the Spectres multiple times.

But Kallus had also stood with him in that cave, injuries and all, and fought back those weird bird-lizards. He’d helped Zeb out of the cave and they’d slept back-to-back to conserve warmth. He’d helped Sabine and Kanan and Ezra without asking anything in return. He’d gone through torture for the Rebellion’s sake. He volunteered for missions like this one that put him in danger.

Now-Kallus wasn’t the same as then-Kallus.

And Zeb rather liked now-Kallus.

Zeb scoffed, irritated with himself. That was hardly a new revelation. He’d thought about kissing the man earlier, hadn’t he?

He’d thought about kissing him a lot, actually. Seeing him running through Yavin base every morning, seeing him stretching out and massaging the muscles of the leg he’d injured on Bahryn, seeing him in the showers after.

Okay, so Zeb could use the sonic on the _Ghost_ , but the water showers of the base were nice, too. And not just because Kallus used them. Really.

That wasn’t the point. The point was, Zeb _liked_ Kallus. Zeb wanted to be friends, which he sort of thought they were. But Zeb also wanted to be more than a friend.

And that was wrong. Or was it?

If Zeb and Kallus could be friends, why couldn’t they be more? If associating with Kallus was disrespecting all the lasat Zeb hadn’t been able to save, then he’d already disrespected them.

He didn’t feel like it was disrespectful, though. Kallus was working to change, to do good. Anyone could return to the Ashla from the Bogan; that’s what Zeb had been taught as a kit. He should be _helping_ Kallus as much as he could.

“You’re staring,” Kallus said, a touch of irritation in his voice. He cracked his eyes open to look at Zeb.

“Thought you were sleeping,” Zeb countered.

“I was,” Kallus said. “Then you started staring.”

“What else am I supposed to look at?” Zeb asked. “The pillars?”

“Some people find fires to be soothing,” Kallus pointed out.

“‘M not looking for soothing. ‘M looking for something to keep me awake,” Zeb grumped.

Kallus opened his eyes all the way, popping one sharp eyebrow up. “What happened to ‘I couldn’t sleep’?”

Zeb’s fur ruffled in irritated embarrassment. He decided to change the topic entirely, to get on top of the conversation rather than let Kallus lead him to confessions he wasn’t ready for. “We’re friends, right?”

“I’m not sure I have _friends_ ,” Kallus said.

“No, really.” Zeb frowned. “Do you consider me a friend or was I just a step on your path from Imperial to Rebel?”

Kallus didn’t answer right away. “I’m going back to sleep,” he announced.

“No, you aren’t,” Zeb said, putting a little growl into his voice. “Answer the question.”

With a put-upon sigh, Kallus chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “I’m not sure I know how to be _friends_ , Zeb. But you have been friendly toward me and I enjoy your company, Force knows why. So I suppose yes, we’re friends, as much as it’s possible.” He looked at Zeb, firelight dancing in his eyes. “Why?”

Zeb shrugged one shoulder. “Just like knowing where we stand. Or sit, in this case.”

Kallus actually snorted a laugh at that. “Wake me if there are any more ronks,” he said, settling back down. “Otherwise, try not to stare.”

Zeb grinned sheepishly. “G’night, Kal.”

“Good night, Zeb.”

Zeb breathed deeply, letting out the tension in his chest. Friends. He could do friends, at least for the time being. He could want more someday, but friendship was a good consolation prize.

Touching his bandages, Zeb winced at the slight pain that caused. Doing that every now and again would keep him awake.

It was going to be a long night trying not to think about Kallus. Or his spots. Or his golden eyes. Or his hair that matched. Or that smooth voice that cracked when he got anxious. Or–

* * *

Zeb woke to a hand on his shoulder. “Whazzat?” he mumbled.

“It’s dawn,” Kallus said. “Ronks will be returning to the caves. We don’t want to be here when that happens.”

That was a good point. “Oh. Yeah.” Zeb yawned. “So where are we going?”

“We’re going to the _Phantom_ and seeing if we heard anything from our defector. And if we haven’t, then we’re going to leave,” Kallus explained.

“Ah. Sounds good.” Zeb clambered to his feet and stretched. “What do we need to do here?”

Kallus looked around the cave. “I think it’s safe to leave the campfire ashes. But if you brought anything else, it’d better come with us. Ration bar wrappers and such.”

Zeb made a face at the thought of the ration bars. He hadn’t eaten one the night before and now his stomach felt a little too empty. “I’ll wait to eat ‘til we reach the _Phantom_ ,” he said.

Nodding, Kallus gathered up the rucksack they’d brought and slung it across his shoulder cross-body. “Let’s go, then.”

The trek back to the _Phantom II_ went faster than Zeb remembered from before. They weren’t slowed down by poor human night vision, which was probably the biggest help. The only thing that _did_ slow them down was Zeb’s own clumsiness.

Not clumsiness because of his injuries, but clumsiness because he’d turned around and caught Kallus watching him intently.

Zeb had stumbled, forcing Kallus to grab his good arm and keep him upright.

That stare didn’t seem _friendly_. Kallus’s hands seemed to linger just a moment too long.

It had to be Zeb’s imagination, though. During the night, they’d established they were friends. 

No more.

The _Phantom II_ was still safe, right where they’d left it, but it was in worse shape. Long, scoring claw marks marred its surface.

“Looks like the ronks got to the _Phantom_.” Kallus traced some of the scratches with his fingers. “We’d better check to make sure she’s still spaceworthy.”

Zeb and Kallus spent the better part of an hour examining the shuttle’s hull before coming to the conclusion that all the scratches were superficial. Hera would fuss, but they didn’t affect the ship’s spaceworthiness.

Just as they opened the _Phantom II_ to go check for comm messages, Zeb’s ears perked up. “Something’s coming our way,” he said, grabbing his bo-rifle and pointing in the direction of the noise.

Kallus quickly and quietly drew his blaster, using the shuttle as a shield to hide behind while they waited to see what – or who – approached.

A woman stumbled through the forest, dressed in a generic Imperial uniform. She appeared to be highly anxious, eyes wide and breathing rapidly. She held her hands up. “The ruins of Agamar!” she said. “I’m Aurora and I’m supposed to mention the ruins of Agamar.”

Zeb and Kallus exchanged glances. Zeb lowered his bo-rifle while Kallus kept his blaster up.

“You’re our defector?” Zeb asked taking a step toward her. “Where were you yesterday?”

“I’m Moff Tascl’s aide,” she said. “He got wind someone was going to defect and put us all on lockdown.”

“That explains the TIEs,” Kallus said. “How’d you get out?”

“I managed to sneak off when he let me go home for the night,” she said. “Came out here, found your ship but not you. I’ve been up in a tree, avoiding the ronks all night.”

“You won’t mind me checking you for tracking devices, then,” Kallus said; a statement, not a question.

“Not at all.”

They swapped; Zeb covered Kallus with the bo-rifle as he used a datapad to scan the woman for transmitters of any sort. He followed that up with a physical pat-down to be safe. “You’re clean,” he announced when he was through.

“We should hurry,” the woman said. “When I don’t go into work today, Tascl will know.”

“Agreed,” said Kallus. “Go on in the shuttle.”

Zeb looked at Kallus once the woman was in the _Phantom II_. “You’re certain about her?”

“As certain as I can be,” he said. “If she’s really the Moff’s aide, she’ll know a lot about all the Imperial activity in the sector. We could use that. And if her story’s true, she went through a rough night to get to us.”

“Okay.” Zeb nodded. He didn’t have a bad feeling about the woman, so he’d listen to Kallus’s assessment. He reached out and grabbed Kallus’s arm. “Hey.”

Kallus stopped and looked at him curiously. “Yes?”

“Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

The edges of Kallus’s mouth twitched upward. “That’s what friends do, right?”

Zeb smiled. “Right. That’s exactly what friends do.”

As they closed up the _Phantom II_ and snuck off to space, Zeb’s smile stayed.

Friends. Finally. And someday, maybe more.

But for now, he was happy. 


End file.
